


The Real Goodfellow, or the Reflection

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, Everybody wants a piece of Cisco, Flash Season 3, Kinda Creepy!HR Wells, M/M, Multi, No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: HR Wells' interest in Cisco is a little more than professional.





	

**Author's Note:**

> god it's been ages since i've written anything for flash! tonight's episode had me inspired, tho. i started it at the beginning of the episode (as we got to see more of HR) and finished it shortly after the episode ended. you can imagine this as taking place sometime during the episode or sometime after. there's no spoilers here, other than the presence of HR. 
> 
> warning--HR turned out kinda creepy in this, and it was sort of intentional, but also... not. 
> 
> anywho, not beta'd. enjoy!

Cisco looks up when a soft footfall catches his attention.

“Oh, hey,” he says quietly.

The other Wells—HR, Wells-19, Not-Harry, whatever—nods jerkily and politely. He takes a few more quiet steps into Cisco’s workshop. He moves carefully as though Cisco is a skittish animal about to be scared off.

“Did you need something?” Cisco asks; he barely reigns in his snappish tone. He knows that he has no reason to _not_ trust this Wells, and that his irritation is completely unfounded. Rationally, he’s aware that treating this Wells with respect and a modicum of patience would go a long way… He just can’t bring himself to do it.

“No, no,” HR shakes his head and waves his hands dismissively. “Just…” He tilts his head, his gaze fixated on Cisco. “Just perusing. Looking for company, maybe. Or a project.” He moves closer still and Cisco reflexively tries to move closer to his work bench. “Anything you could use a hand with, Francisco?”

“Tellin’ you, man, call me Cisco.” It’s the umpteenth reminder Cisco has given, and he’s figuring it’ll fall just as flat as before. “And, uh, not really?” Cisco turns and looks at the mess of his various projects. “I’m not really working on anything specific, so…”

HR nods again. “Would you mind the company?”

Cisco swallows nervously but keeps it silent. “Nah, don’t mind I guess. Not going to be very interesting, though.”

HR smiles this time and moves to one of the empty chairs tucked away from the work bench. “I don’t mind. Watching will be sufficient.”

Maybe Cisco is imagining it, but if he had to name it—he’d say there’s a sultry undercurrent to HR’s tone. It sends shivers down Cisco’s spine, both pleasant and not. Mostly not, Cisco thinks.

“Okay.” He shrugs and turns back to his project. He tinkers absent-mindedly, painfully aware of HR’s presence. An urge pulls at him to fill the thick silence; instead of speaking (what would they talk about?) he reaches for a nearby remote to queue the music. Heavy beats echo off the walls but the air remains thick and distracting.

After a few songs have played, Cisco is finally able to immerse himself in his work again. He loses himself in the tinkering, the soft zaps of electricity and the feeling of tools heavy in his grip. It’s familiar, calming, settles his racing heartrate.

That is, until the hairs on the back of his neck standup.

“Uh,” Cisco straightens from hunching over his work. He turns slowly but already knows what—or rather, who—is waiting for him.

HR stands right behind him. There’s barely a few inches between their bodies and Cisco can feel the heat rolling of HR’s body. His previously calm heartbeat skyrockets again, and Cisco can’t meet HR’s eyes.

“Hey there, HR, gettin’ a little close, aren’t you?”

HR doesn’t reply. He tilts his head and reaches for Cisco’s hand. His long elegant fingers curl around Cisco’s wrist and his heartbeat drums rapidly under the touch.

“HR?” Cisco’s tongue is dry and useless in his mouth.

“Cisco,” HR starts. “Would you be offended if I said I find you quite attractive?”

Cisco’s whole body startles and he lightly jerks his wrist back, though HR doesn’t let go. “HR—?”

“Because I do, Cisco.” HR smiles. “You’re intelligent, talented, handsome.” HR casts a pointed look up and down Cisco’s body; when he meets Cisco’s gaze again there’s a gentle pink flush across HR’s cheeks. He looks almost innocent… almost. “And I’d be terribly pleased if you’d allow me to take you on a date.”

Cisco laughs—a touch hysterical. “What?”

HR laughs as well, smooth and tinged only with a bit of nerves. “I know there’s quite an age difference between us, not to mention I’m from a different earth, but…” HR sighs and shrugs and seems to shake out his uncertainty before continuing. “But what the hell, right? I have nothing to lose.”

Cisco blinks and realizes his eyes are wet, and his whole body is shaking. HR hasn’t noticed, or if he has he’s ignoring it. “I really, uh, I can’t, HR. I’m sorry.”

Immediately, HR deflates. His grip on Cisco’s wrist doesn’t loosen, but he leans in a little less close. A weight lifts off Cisco’s chest with the newfound distance, however minor.

“I’m sorry,” Cisco assures. “I just—I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.” His thoughts drift to Harry. An earth away, toiling away at practically running a city. His heart aches and the burn of tears in his eyes grows worse. “There’s someone else.”

HR studies Cisco for a long time. “The other—Harry. Harry Wells.”

Cisco’s skin burns. “Does it matter?”

“Gives me an idea of whether or not I’ve got a chance with you.”

Cisco splutters and finally manages to yank his wrist from HR’s grasp. “Excuse me?”

“He’s not here, I am. If you’d date one Harrison Wells, why not another one?” HR carries on, barrels on without letting Cisco interject. “I’ve read the ledgers, you know. I’ve seen the footage. He wasn’t exactly a nice man.”

Cisco scoffs. “He—he wasn’t evil, either. He was messed up, yeah, but… He wasn’t bad.”

“He seemed incredibly rude and didn’t seem to truly appreciate your magnificence.” HR doesn’t move any further away but he’s not blocking Cisco from escaping either.

“You have no idea what kind of person he was.” Cisco pushes past HR and makes a beeline for the door. “I’m gonna go grab some Big Belly Burger—I’d really appreciate it if you weren’t here when I got back.” He doesn’t look back as he leaves. He walks with purpose, each step falling with force against the tiled floor. His fists are clenched so tight his nails bite into his palm, but the slight sting of pain keeps him from falling apart.

He doesn’t breathe evenly until he’s the elevator, headed up to the parking lot. Cisco falls against the wall and shudders. He laughs, briefly, out of disbelief and anger and a single strand of fear. He exits STAR Labs and gets into his car on autopilot; he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. Eventually, he pulls away from the building—away from HR.

Cisco doesn’t go to Big Belly Burger. He drives straight home, and can’t put into words the relief he feels when he realizes Barry isn’t home. He makes sure to lock the door behind him, and then locks his bedroom door behind him as well. He barely takes the time to strip out of the day’s clothes, grabs a sweatshirt and yanks it over his head eagerly. The warmth helps, more so once he’s under his blankets and settled in bed.

His heart is still thundering in his chest and he feels dizzy. He laughs again, this time bitter and sad.

Cisco shakes his head and does his best to clear his thoughts of HR. He focuses instead on Harry, the hug they shared before he left; if he tries especially hard, he can feel the even rhythm of Harry’s heartbeat across the universe. It’s exhausting to put the effort in, but the beat is soothing. The combination of both puts him to sleep at some point, and he dreams of Harry the entire night.


End file.
